


A(nother) Story About You

by hlessirah



Category: Welcome to Night Vale
Genre: Awkward Carlos, Cecil Has A Third Eye, Cecil is Mostly Human, Choose Your Own Adventure, Desert Bluffs, Exploration, Falling In Love, Gen, Interactive, Night Vale is dangerous, Other, Possible Character Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-02
Updated: 2014-07-04
Packaged: 2018-02-07 02:51:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 24
Words: 8,044
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1882302
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hlessirah/pseuds/hlessirah
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"This is a story about you," says the man on your iPod. And you start to wonder if you misheard that sentence.<br/>This new podcast is not at all what you expected. What will you do?</p><p>A Night Vale "Choose Your Own Adventure" story.<br/>Choose wisely.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Welcome To Night Vale

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome, dear readers!  
> This is written in the style of a "Choose Your Own Adventure" book. You determine the direction of the story. 
> 
> At the end of each chapter, you are presented with choices. Click on the choice to move to the next part of your adventure. When you reach an end, feel free to explore and start your journey again.
> 
> Some paths lead to good endings, others to bad. Can you survive your visit to Night Vale?
> 
> (Do you like the story? Do you have suggestions for new endings or different paths for me to add?  
> I would appreciate your comments and input!)

"This is a story about you," says the man on your iPod. And you start to wonder if you misheard that sentence.

Welcome to Night Vale.

This is a story about you.

You are a person who has many interests. You enjoy things like music, movies, books. Other things, you do not like as much. Lately, you have been a fan of a particular podcast, entitled "Welcome to Night Vale". It is an interesting, albeit difficult-to-describe story, based around a mysterious and strange desert community. You have spent hours listening to each episode, and when you have listened to all of them, you sometimes turn to the internet, looking for fan-made art and stories.

It isn't an obsession, you tell yourself often. Just a fun pastime. You are not sure how honest that statement really is.

You quickly remove the cord from your iPod and walk out the door of your home. Today is the day you chose to listen to the most recent episode, and you are glad you did. You have to drive a much longer distance than usual today, and it will be nice to have something new to entertain yourself during the journey.

Once you reach the highway, you press the "play" button. You smile as you listen to the introduction from a person who may or may not be named Joseph Fink. Finally, Cecil's eagerly-awaited voice announces the episode, and you wonder if it is a rerun.

You quickly realize that it is not.

The story this time is actually about you.

Which is not possible. You laugh at the very idea. As the laugh leaves your mouth, the voice on your iPod describes you laughing, which makes you stop. Your glance lands briefly on your iPod, and when he describes this as well, you start to grow… concerned.

This is weird, you think. No, not weird. Creepy.

All intentions of paying attention to your route are gone as your thoughts are suddenly working overtime.

Your mind, so occupied, does not even notice the shifting scenery until the voice on your iPod brings it to your attention. The road is now surrounded by seemingly endless desert, and the sky looks...different somehow. And also, yours is now the only car on the road.

Something catches your eye. Your car, as directed by the pressure of foot on pedal, slows to a stop.

There is a sign on the road. It reads:

**NIGHT VALE**

You stare at the sign, either unwilling or unable to decide what this means.

Thankfully, the voice on your iPod is still narrating, reminding you what you must have known all along, that you cannot stand in the desert forever. The empty road only runs two ways. What will you do?

[ **Continue On** ](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1882302/chapters/4067577)

[ **Turn Back** ](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1882302/chapters/4065825)


	2. Turn Back

If the unbelievable is to be believed, what was once fiction is now fact. Your pulse quickens, your breaths grow shorter, and you start to panic. The voice on your iPod describes this as well, and you practically tear the headphones from your ears.

You have to get out of here, you realize. Quickly.

You enter your car, make a hasty turn, and speed away from the sign and the town. Nothing good happens in Night Vale, you know that much. You were right to leave.

With some degree of effort, you calm yourself, and your heart reluctantly returns to something resembling its normal state. Cecil's voice on your iPod continues its narration, but you can hardly hear it from its new spot, discarded on the passenger seat.

This time, without the voice on your iPod to distract you, you notice your surroundings change. The darkness at the edge of the midday sky starts to fade, reverting back to uniformly bright sunshine, and you sigh with relief. Your thoughts turn to the task of retracing your steps, which should not be difficult at this point, because the road is still completely solitary and straight. Still, you know, and the voice on your iPod is probably mentioning this as you think it, that you will still need to ask for directions at some point.

There is a town in the distance. The large sign you are approaching boasts an unnervingly happy sun, smiling with large, shiny teeth next to the caption "Welcome to Desert Bluffs!"

You hadn't passed this sign before, and you are sure you hadn't seen the town either. But the road is straight, and you never left it. How is this possible?

 

[ **Return to Night Vale** ](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1882302/chapters/4065837)

[ **Continue to Desert Bluffs** ](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1882302/chapters/4067406)


	3. Return to Night Vale

Thankfully, you return to your senses. You can't believe you had considered it, even for a moment. 

Why would anyone want to go to Desert Bluffs? They are the worst! 

[ **Continue** ](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1882302/chapters/4067577)


	4. Continue to Desert Bluffs

You drive on. Of course you do. You must.

And really, why wouldn't you? No matter what, logic dictates that this direction is the way back home, so you continue on.

Oh my goodness, what a thrill it is to approach this wonderful little town.

The town… does not appear as terrifying as that podcast had led you to believe. You see no blood or viscera as you enter the town, of course, just very charming, even picturesque buildings. Really, you can't understand why you expected anything else. There is a large yellow factory and office complex in the distance, but these do not detract from the wholesome and handsome landscape around you.

Wait, there it is, a flash and then gone. What was that? No, it was nothing. Of course.

Oh no! The car is running out of gas. Fortunately for you, there is a StrexStation Fuel n' Go right down the street. How lucky you are!

The man behind the counter is wearing a sunny striped yellow apron and serves you with a smile and a friendly "hello".

"Say, are you new to town?" he asks. You smile back and explain that you are just passing through. While you chat, you can't help but notice that something seems odd. Something about his eyes? But of course there is nothing wrong. This town is wonderful. Why wouldn't it be?

You start walking back to your car. The sun is beautiful, and there is a spring in your step. An adorable baby raccoon crosses your path. How cute it is! You stop to pet it, and when you stand up, you see something remarkable.

There are several people just… just standing there. How unusual. You lift your hand for a friendly wave. It's only polite, after all.

Then you see. Someone standing there and smiling at you. That person looks very familiar, you think, with hair just like yours, a face just like yours, but those eyes… Those eyes are not like yours at all.

What will you do now? The doors of wonderful opportunities have opened, and you must make a choice.

You must.

The choice is simple to make, and as you do, the smiling voice on the iPod in your car sounds happier than ever.

 

[ **Befriend Double** ](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1882302/chapters/4067421)

[ **Flee Double** ](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1882302/chapters/4067457)


	5. Befriend Double

You stand still, not sure what to do. The person is watching you. There must be a dozen people in the parking lot around you, but you can't tell for sure. Things around you seem to be changing. The sun is growing brighter, but the ground is growing darker, and the objects around are changing. There is a strange smell you can't quite place. You hardly notice. You can't look away from those eyes, and besides, that wouldn't be very polite, now would it?

The person, your double, you vaguely realize, waves back. Your mind is soothingly empty.

You hear a voice, though you aren't sure where it's coming from, telling you what you already know. You listen, and walk forward. So does your double.

The crowd, now a dozen, two dozen, you are not sure, is surrounding you. All you are paying attention to are those eyes meeting yours. Those dark, wonderful eyes.

The blackness of those eyes is so beautiful. So perfect.

You are happy, and you are smiling.

 

The voice on your iPod is still talking, but you have forgotten about it. You will not go back to your car. A car is something that is used to leave places and go to new and better ones, so why would you ever need a car? You have already found the best little town under the most beautiful smiling sun.

Everything is perfect here. And you are so, so happy.

Until next time, Desert Bluffs.

Until next time.

 

**END**


	6. Flee Double

Your heart beats fast, so very, very fast. You run back to your car. Now, why would you do that?

Your head is spinning, and you feel slightly dizzy. There it is again, that flash of something different, darker, all around you.

The car starts with a shudder, but you drive away. That wasn't very polite. You don't care about that. You just want to drive, to get away. From the passenger seat, you hear something, and you grab the iPod and return the headphones to your ears.

If the voice knows what is happening, maybe it can also help you escape. Having omniscience on your side couldn't hurt, after all.

The voice reaches your ears just as it says that the voice reaches your ears. It is a different voice, you can tell, much friendlier than the other voice you are used to.

It sounds familiar, and you realize who it is.

You drive on, and the voice is happy to keep you company as you head further into that quaint little town. Yes, it is a beautiful little town. The voice says so, even though that is not what you are thinking.

There are people everywhere now. Some are waving to the left, but you turn right. It's okay, they understand. Oh, there are a few on the right. Is that a basket of freshly-baked muffins in their hands? You turn left. If you looked in your rearview mirror, you would see them shrug, discussing plans to give you the present another time. What nice people!

The voice happily describes your car slowing, sputtering to a safe and gradual stop. You realize that you forgot to fill your car up with gas.

You leave the car, and your muscles tense, ready to run. You are a good runner. Still, why would you want to leave? Where would you go? You are surrounded by this lovely desert, after all, but you are thinking only of escaping.

Escaping? That's a rude way to put it. You glare at the voice, but it's okay. He understands.

There are people all around you now, and you do not run. You spin around, looking at the happy, smiling faces all around you. What an incredible welcoming party.

You stop, and now in front of you is that familiar face. Your double is very close now. You look for a way out, but there is none. Just an endless sea of welcome.

Those eyes are very close now. They're so dark but welcoming. You can feel them somehow, deep inside you, pulling out the fear, leaving you so, so happy.

No, you tell yourself, it's not real. You don't realize that it can be real. You are so stubborn. You try to look away.

Your double's arms are open. The crowd is close, and you can't move. "I love you," your double says, voice bubbling over with goodwill.

Your double hugs you. You try to pull away. You can't.

The hug grows tighter.

You can't breathe. Why would you need to worry about silly things like breathing when you are loved this much?

Tighter.

You stop breathing.

 

Your body falls to the pavement, and the people set down their muffin baskets and cupcakes nearby and walk away. Your double smiles and leaves as well.

You do not leave. Of course you don't. You were never leaving, after all.

The headphones fall off your head, and the voice speaks again, even though you can't hear him anymore.

Until next time, Desert Bluffs.

Until next time.

**END**


	7. Continue On

You drive on, leaving the sign behind. There are a few cars on the road, but not many, and you are soon in what you assume to be downtown Night Vale.

You park your car and exit your vehicle. You find that your earlier feelings of apprehension are slowly being replaced by an insatiable curiosity. Assuming that this experience is real, and not the product of sudden madness, you are now in the place that you never imagined that you would actually visit.

You find the voice distracting, and the description of your removing the headphones fades away as you remove them and place them in your bag. Leaning against the hood of your car, you survey your surroundings.

Your memory should serve you well, at least, you hope it will. You have listened to every available episode of the podcast at least once. Hopefully that knowledge should be enough to guide you.

There are many buildings, mostly small buildings in various shades of tan that nearly blend into the rocks and sand that cover the ground around them. Even so, some do stand out to you. A bright green building with large windows and neon lights sits at the end of the block. The sign with large letters, spelling simply "Moonlight" confirms it. Another large building stands a few blocks away.

You smile in wary anticipation. You are here, in Night Vale. Improbable, yes, but as long as you're here...

 

[ **Approach Town Hall** ](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1882302/chapters/4082202)

[ **Explore Downtown** ](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1882302/chapters/4067607)

[ **Enter Diner** ](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1882302/chapters/4068240)


	8. Explore Downtown

You return the headphones to your ears as you leave your car. A woman, or a man, or perhaps neither, covered in a long black veil walks towards you. The voice in your headphones describes as the figure approaches and stops, much closer than you'd like, and stares, saying nothing. You think you hear breathing. Is this person dangerous, you wonder, new apprehension growing in the back of your thoughts. You are not sure if asking this person to step back would be impolite. You do not have the chance to say anything, because she suddenly produces a party popper, pulls the cord, thrusts several papers in your hands, and hurries away.

Looking down through the confetti mist, you notice that the papers are brochures. The huge and oddly sticky red letters read, "Visitable Night Vale!". Underneath are pictures, some photographs, some merely crayon scrawls of forests, towers, and a series of smudges you slowly recognize as a map.

You aren't entirely sure of where you want to go. You feel admittedly thrilled of suddenly finding yourself in a place you had never believed you would visit, but you realize that your excitement has lead to some indecisiveness.

As you try to decide between the Brown Stone Spire and the Whispering Forest, a figure across the street catches your eye. It is tall, very tall, much taller than the elderly woman it is walking beside. You wonder if is an angel, but the voice in your headphones reminds you that is ridiculous to think so.

Angels aren't real.

They are not.

You walk towards the figure. Is it glowing? Is that even light? You have never seen a light like that. And what is that sound? You can faintly hear it as you follow behind, growing louder, more insistent. Your mind empties. The sound, the light, you cannot recall experiencing anything more beautiful. You can barely even hear the voice on your ipod describe your dropping the brochures, and there is a vague sensation of a hand on your shoulder.

The touch grows firmer, and the feeling pulls you back to yourself and the world around you. You realize that you were mere inches from the tall and winged creature, and the sudden realization of proximity startles you. You stumble back and fall to the sidewalk.

The elderly woman, you had nearly forgotten her presence, smiles in your direction. The sun glares behind her, and for a moment in your frazzled mind, she almost resembles her companion. "It isn't polite to stare, dear," she tells you.

She is right, the voice on your ipod comments. It is often dangerous as well.

She holds out her hand to help you back to your feet. "You don't look well." A note of concern enters her voice. You realize you have been shaking, and it is difficult to stop.

"Why don't you come with me?"

 

[ **Follow the Woman** ](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1882302/chapters/4067733)

[ **Continue Walking** ](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1882302/chapters/4067946)


	9. Follow The Woman

You force a shaky smile and take her hand.

As your head clears, you take a closer look at the woman. She is elderly, to be sure, but something in her eyes suggests a hidden youthful spirit. She is wearing a worn green cardigan and carrying several plastic bags. They seem heavy. You offer to carry them, but she chuckles and refuses, handing them instead to her winged companion who spreads a pair of great golden wings and flies off into the distance.

"They like to help," she says with a conspiratorial wink.

You offer her a ride instead, and this she accepts. She introduces herself as Josie and directs you east towards the edge of town. The town passes by, and you feel curiosity return to your thoughts while you see an abandoned charred building, a confused-looking young woman, an imposing structure draped in black velvet, and a man in a lab coat staring at you as you pass. Finally you stop the car next to a small but tidy house. In the front is a neat garden full of herbs which you cannot identify, and in the distance you can see the outline of a great forest oddly juxtaposed with the desert surroundings.

Around the house are dozens of angels. Most are flying, swooping, circling in lazy circles. Some are sitting on the porch, still as statues, and two are in the garden, with shovels that do not seem right clutched in their luminescent hands. It is amazing, but you try not to stare, not again.

She holds out her arm, a blur of golden feathers swoops past, and the shopping bags are in her hands. She opens the door and motions for you to come inside.

 

[ **Go Inside** ](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1882302/chapters/4067880)

[ **Leave** ](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1882302/chapters/4067982)


	10. Go Inside

 You shrug and follow her through the door. The rooms inside are just as crowded with angels, but aside from the rustling of their occasional movement and the flapping outside, it is silent.

"Oh, don't mind them," Josie tells you while she makes shooing motions towards the angels sitting at the kitchen table. "Would you like some tea?"

You agree, and sit down, trying to ignore the stares of the displaced angels. It is very hard to tell if they are angry with their faces like that. Josie laughs at your confused expression as she sets a chipped mug in front of you, which you take and sip gratefully.

"You are special," Josie says simply and sits down next to you. "Cecil has noticed it. So have the angels."

"I…" you start to speak, but aren't sure what to say.

"You must be destined for great things." She looks at you expectantly. Your confusion growing, you glance around nervously and focus on keeping your hands steady.

She smiles, and it is the warmest smile you have seen in a long time, especially compared to the cold emotionless eyes of the angels around her. She places her hand on your shoulder.

"You may not know it yet, but you would not be here if it was not true. Big things are coming, and you know this is a dangerous place. You will have a role to play, they know it."

Your heart beats faster, and you suddenly feel the dozens, hundreds of eyes watching you expectantly. You never did well under pressure, says the voice on your iPod.

Josie pushes a bowl of fresh cherries towards you. "Don't worry, you will figure it out. While we wait, why don't you stay here? The angels are good protection but, well, not much company, and the bowling league needs new members."

 

[ **Stay With Josie** ](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1882302/chapters/4068156)

[ **Leave** ](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1882302/chapters/4068186)


	11. Continue Walking

You are not sure how you find your way back to your feet. It feels like something reached deep inside and pulled, firm but gentle, and you were standing once again in the hot desert sunlight.

The woman is still there. She may be saying something, but you are beyond paying attention. Your gaze is drawn briefly once again to the angel, who of course, is not real. The voice says so, but you do not listen.

You turn away and walk.

You do not know where you are going, only that you must keep walking. You pass buildings, some of which you vaguely recognize. A large obsidian wall, several tall and imposing buildings, a seemingly abandoned gas station with curiously dark windows. The thought floats by your mind that only a few hours ago, you might have stopped for a closer look. Not now.

The buildings become less concentrated. The sidewalk ends, and soon, the road as well. Your mind attempts to question where you are, why you are going there, and when you will stop. You find yourself wondering as well, if the desert air is so dry, why your face has been so wet. Have you been crying? You cannot answer, even to yourself, until your feet come to a stop seemingly of their own accord.

 

[ **NEXT** ](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1882302/chapters/4067982)


	12. Next

You have returned to the desert, although it is different than before. The sun is now low in the sky behind you, and a vibrant sunset is gradually making way for the void. The tall figure is back, a few yards in front of you. Several more surround it, and you wonder if you should be afraid.

The headphones fell off a while ago and are now dangling around your neck, the once sonorous baritone is now a tinny whisper among the sounds of the shifting desert sands and the distant melodic tones of the angels.

Angels, yes. That is what they are. The voice is no longer able to reach you and convince you otherwise.

The angel moves towards you; its movement is both entrancing and terrifying. A voice fills your mind with a single question. "Will you come?"

 

[ **Join Angels** ](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1882302/chapters/4068003)

[ **Leave Angels** ](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1882302/chapters/4068033)


	13. Join Angels

There was never any question. This is why you are here, why your story is told, and everything is leading to this moment.

You step forward. The angel reaches out a long-fingered hand. You take it.

As you make contact, your body begins to change. You fall forward, and your back suddenly feels as if it is exploding. The pain is there, excruciating and intense, but you either do not notice or mind. Then you are rising, slowly, a bright light emerging from the darkness, surrounding you and the others, filling your mind with knowledge and wisdom and age, all beyond what you know a person should be able to know.

You are different now, and you do not mind. You ascend into that improbable holy light. The light flows over you, through you, and you are gone.

 

An ipod falls from the sky in the desert, surprisingly intact, given its apparent height. There is a woman there, elderly but still youthful in spirit. She walks over, picks it up, and holds the headphones to her ear. There is no music, just a familiar deep voice. She smiles.

"Good night, Night Vale," the voice murmurs.

"Good night."

 

**END**


	14. Leave Angels

You shake your head and walk on past the angel. Their strange light and beautiful music grows more distant with every step. It is calling to you, and the growing distance feels as if your heart is being slowly torn from your body. Tears are streaming down now, you know it, but you also know you were never worthy.

The moon begins to rise, bright enough along with the strange floating lights to your left to illuminate your journey, and your mind grows thoughtful. You had wondered before if the voice was suddenly narrating you because you were somehow destined for great things. Had refusing the angels been a mistake? Was your story over now? You return the headphones to your head as the voice describes the action. Your story is not over.

You are tired, so tired, your emotions now only an uncertain mix of weariness, determination, regret, and hope. You have no direction now but forward and no sense to where, if anywhere, this will lead.

Perhaps you will die here. There is no water and no people aside from your unseen companion. You are thirsty. For some reason, this doesn't bother you as much as it should.

The desert sand is deep, and walking across the dunes is difficult. You pause to look around and there, just a few feet in the distance is a door.

An old oak door with a brass knob stands there without a need for a wall or building, just existing on its own. It should not be there, but it is.

You find this fact strangely reassuring.

You stumble towards the door, falling a few times in the fine sand. The door, however, stands tall and steady, and you are grateful to finally lean against it. It is mysterious, of course, but not like the angels at all. Its wood is dark and well-crafted, though perhaps a little in need of polishing, but what catches your eye is the heavy chain wrapped around its frame. What a shame, you think while you run your hand along the chain. Doors are meant to be opened, but this one is trapped.

A clink seems to echo across the desert expanse. The lock falls open. Did you do that? You are not sure.

 

[ **Open Door** ](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1882302/chapters/4068096)

[ **Walk Away** ](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1882302/chapters/4068123)


	15. Open Door

You smile, wide and grateful, and let the chains fall to the sand. You reach for the shining brass knob, twist it, and push the door open. The landscape beyond the door is nothing like the flat desert surrounding you. You see another place, incredible, beyond what you ever could have expected. In the distance you think you see a woman. She waves, and you hear a small earnest voice call to you.

A gentle warm breeze seems to pull you in, and now you are ready to oblige. You smile wider. You step through. The door slams shut behind you and vanishes from sight and possibly from existence.

Is this the beginning you were hoping for? Or is it an end you should have feared? There is so much that is unknown to us, but finally, all that mattered was the journey and the choice to go on.

And so, you chose. Whether you chose well, that is unimportant. Whatever happens from now on to you, to all of us, what matters in the end is simply the choosing. That, dear listeners, is all of it.

Good night, Night Vale.

Good night.

 

**END**


	16. Walk Away

No, you back away. The locks must have been there for a reason. Especially in a place like this, it would not be wise to open.

And so you walk on into the desert expanse. You wonder about the town, the angels, the doors, all the things you left behind. Should you have acted? There were choices to make, and you chose to move on. Was that wrong? No, there is no sense in regretting. Even in Night Vale, the past is the past.

You begin to wonder what will happen to you next. Is this the end? No, the thoughts leave your mind. All that you have is the present, and so you focus on that as you walk forward into the desert horizon.

The desert sunrise will be beautiful, but it is still hours away. The moon, the cooling desert sands, the voice on your iPod, and you. That is the present.

And it is beautiful.

Good night, Night Vale.

Good night.

 

**END**


	17. Stay With Josie

You wake to a sound you did not expect. The voice on your iPod is speaking again. You have lived with Josie and her angelic companions at her home near the car lot for a while now. It is difficult to leave Night Vale, but you do not try anymore.

You have a routine now. Waking up early every morning, teaching the angels to cook breakfast, tending the garden, walking the periphery of the whispering forest and returning its compliments, and bowling or just watching TV in the evenings.

Sometimes it rains blood, or helicopters try to breach the angelic patrol, or strangely-colored skies bring horrible nightmare visions, but for the most part, you are content. Josie is kind, and you are getting accustomed to the angels' presence.

Night Vale is a dangerous and frightening place to be, to be sure, but you have found a place within it. Someday you may find your purpose, but for now, you are not worried. You have learned to knit, and isn't that impressive enough for now?

You smile, put the iPod back on the dresser, and return to sleep.

Good night, Night Vale.

Good Night.

 

**END**


	18. Leave

No, no. This is too much. It doesn't feel right. There is something about how this woman and those angels, or whatever they are, are watching you. They expect something, something great, and you are worried that you would disappoint. Or that you would not.

You sense a warning in the tone of the voice on your iPod. You could be imagining it, but you do not risk it.

You back away slowly, and you walk away.

 

[ **NEXT** ](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1882302/chapters/4067982)


	19. Enter Diner

You exit your car, return your headphones to your ears, and head towards the conspicuous building across the street. As you approach, you notice that the neon tubing that makes up the décor is still illuminated, even though the noontime desert sun makes the glow nearly unnoticeable. Odd.

The lights emit a hum. No, not a single tone, you realize, but more of a chord. A collective note so faint which makes you strain to hear it while also being impossible to ignore. You shake your head as the voice on your iPod returns your focus back to where you are and what you were meant to be doing.

Inside looks surprisingly normal. Of course it is, the voice on your iPod reminds you. It's just a diner, after all. What were you expecting? A woman behind the cash register appears to be dancing, but there is no music to match, just the faint soundtrack of murmured conversation and clinking tableware. You do no need to disturb her, as the sign instructs you to seat yourself.

You sit. And wait. You sit, and you wait for several minutes while the voice on the iPod describes the sitting and waiting, growing audibly bored. You look around, searching for a waiter, and when you look back, the menu is suddenly there in front of you. You are positive that it wasn't there before.

This is so cool, surprising, amazing, you think with growing excitement. You try not to let it show. Keep it cool, you think. The voice on your iPod repeating your thought helps. Keep. It. Cool.

As you begin perusing the menu, a loud bang announces the arrival of strange and frantic man in a slightly smudged lab coat rushing towards you.

 

[ **Speak To Man** ](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1882302/chapters/4068306)

[ **Order Lunch** ](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1882302/chapters/4068249)


	20. Order Lunch

You sigh absently as he starts talking excitedly. His voice is beautiful, according to the iPod, but he doesn't seem to realize that he is interrupting both your meal and your podcast. You don't have time for this, you think. This has been a long morning, and you are hungry. Whatever he has to say can wait. 

You call out your order, hoping that someone can hear you over your new companion's incessant chatter. The voice on your iPod chuckles as a paisley-clad figure moving unnaturally fast deposits a tray in front of you, and you remember that yes, of course they did. In Night Vale, someone is always listening.

"...and I just…" the man continued, but stops talking. "Is that…?" he inquires, and you smile and nod your head. The plate looks empty and perfectly clean, and you both examine it curiously. The invisible pie is certainly living up to its name.

You pick up a fork and tentatively move the prongs above the surface of the plate. As you wonder if perhaps this is an elaborate hoax, the fork stops in mid-air. The man searches through his shoulder bag and pulls out a device with several dials and blinking red lights. The fork presses down in the unseen obstruction, and when you raise it up, it feels heavier than it did before. You take a bite and chew it thoughtfully. What is that taste? You are not sure.

You stare off into space, and take a sip of your drink, contemplating the improbability of your food. A gasp and a thump snaps your world into focus. The man is staring at you, his lovely deep eyes wide with concern… no, fear. He has dropped his device. You follow his gaze to your hand and you realize what is in your cup.

Orange juice.

"Oh no," the voice on your iPod says, deep and slow. That can't be good.

You take headphones from your ears with shaky hands that now feel different. They seem cold, but no, hot as well.

"Did I… Is it…?" is all you can say to the man in front of you.

"Yes, I think that you have ingested the, um, transdimentional …" he replies, but you can't make out the rest. His voice is fading. "Just be sure to… we can rever… Cecil wou... it shouldn't…" Are you dizzy or is this man actually fading? You soon realize that both are true.

"No, no, no," you try to say, but you cannot hear your own voice. You can almost see the man try to touch your shoulder, but you cannot feel it.

Panic overtakes your mind, your breathing grows ragged and fast, and you hurry to place the headphones back over your ears. All you can hear from them is the voice saying what you already know, that it is too late.

"Good night, Night Vale."

The voice on your ipod sounds like distant static now. The man in front of you is a vague blur in a rising tide of blinding light.

"Good Night."

 

**END**


	21. Speak To Man

The man is at your booth in a matter of seconds, speaking in an endless stream of data that is hard to understand, especially with the combination of the additional voice in your ear. You can't help but notice the voice on your iPod change its tone as you realize who this is. Who else would posses such a handsome lab coat, caramel voice, and perfect, perfect hair just growing into a remarkably lovely shagginess?

Carlos!

You can hardly believe that Carlos, Cecil's perfectly imperfect Carlos, of all people, would be here.

Carlos, wonderful, handsome, clever Carlos is… Staring at you. He points to his ears, and you quickly remove the headphones.

"I'm sorry," you say.

He laughs and smiles. "No, I'm sorry, that must have been distracting." He sighs and smiles. "I can imagine what he must have been saying about this."

His face grows serious, earnest, and only more handsome. "Something stranger than usual is going on here, and we need to get to the bottom of this. You are special. Cecil has noticed it. We aren't sure what this means, but we can't ignore the evidence."

You nod.

"I need for you to come with me."

You nod again.

Carlos does have a point. This has been bothering you since you first placed the headphones to your ears. Why is this happening? Why you? There is nothing important about you, at least, that is what you thought. Were you wrong?

He stands up abruptly and you do the same, and you both leave the diner. You climb into his slightly cluttered hybrid and drive a short distance to an unremarkable building next to… "Big Rico's", the neon sign proclaims, and you smile. Maybe you can convince Carlos to get you a slice. You did miss lunch, after all.

As you step through the door, you realize that it may be a long time until you can ask for a delicious slice of Big Rico's famous gluten-free pizza. Several scientists are there, ready and brandishing blinking and beeping devices. The voice on your iPod is also playing through speakers in the wall while a young assistant furiously takes notes, and hearing both voices at once is giving you a headache.

Carlos is murmuring into a cell phone. You suspect he is talking about you. The scientists are little intrusive, but genuinely friendly. Eventually, you open up and start asking questions yourself, and not just about the pizza.

Carlos returns the phone to his worn jeans and walks over to you. He asks a question. You smile and say yes.

 

You wake to a sound you did not expect. The voice on your iPod is speaking again. You have lived with Carlos and his team of scientists for a week now. The couch isn't all that uncomfortable, and what else were you supposed to do? Carlos says that is difficult to leave Night Vale, especially the way things are, but at least you have a place to stay.

You have a routine now. You may not be a scientist, but you are still happy to help. Waking up early every morning, making sure Carlos remembered to eat breakfast, sweeping the lab floor, taking notes on the beakers and flasks, and sometimes simply eating pizza and getting to know the scientists.

Sometimes it rains blood, or an intangible spirit will possess the coffee maker, or strangely-colored skies bring horrible nightmare visions, but for the most part, you are content.

Night Vale is a dangerous and frightening place to be, to be sure, but you have found a place within it. Yes, as a closely-monitored test subject, but you find that you cannot complain. Someday you may find your purpose, but for now, you are not worried. Carlos is very reassuring.

You smile, put the iPod back on the table, and return to sleep.

Good night, Night Vale.

Good Night.

 

  **END**


	22. Approach Town Hall

That large building over there catches your eye, and you walk towards it. It is large, certainly, but stately, the dark cracks along the stone walls telling a story you cannot quite understand. Whatever it is, it is certainly distinctive. The sides of the buildings are draped in long bolts of fabric, half black velvet and half breezy orange cotton. You can hear shouting inside.

You can't help yourself. Yes, you have always said you weren't an eavesdropper, but the temptation is simply irresistible. One voice is a woman, but the other is harder to discern. You take a few steps closer and tilt your head to try and hear better. Suddenly a hand is grasping your shoulder. A woman wearing some sort of uniform with a hat so seemingly ridiculous that it nearly makes you laugh in surprise is glaring at you.

"You. What are you doing?" She asks and places her hands on her hips.

You start to stammer an answer, but before you have the chance, a young man rushes between you. He is out of breath, but he manages to talk. "She was waiting for me, officer. Station business," he pants and makes an elaborate and confusing series of hand gestures towards the woman and nearby hooded figures. How long had those hooded figures been there? Were they around earlier?

The woman stares at you, looks you up and down, and climbs into the nearest tree. You both sigh in relief, and the man turns towards you. He seems about your age, but it is difficult to know for sure. He wears an excited smile and a purple polo shirt with a very familiar logo. You are confused, but you cannot help but smile as well.

"You! I knew you'd be here!" he exclaims enthusiastically.

"How did you…?" you ask.

He brushes his hair aside and points to an earpiece. "I'm listening too!" He holds out a hand. You take it. You both smile.

He introduces himself as Intern Kyle, and you nod a little too enthusiastically. A real Night Vale intern. He points to the logo on his shirt and grins. You both realize you are still holding hands.

You cough, embarrassed, and release it as he rocks back on his heels nervously. You return the headphones to your ears and the deep voice continues as Kyle speaks.

"I- I'm supposed to get you. They say you're...special. Cecil's noticed you." There is a brief change in his voice for a moment. What is that? Reverence? Fear? You aren't sure what this means, the voice on your iPod says, and you both hear. "I, well… It's… complicated. I just know I need to take you back to the station. Now."

You think for a moment, but nod without much hesitation. After all, what Night Vale fan would not jump at the change to see the station, the studio, and maybe even Cecil himself?

 

[ **Walk to Station** ](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1882302/chapters/4082634)

[ **Drive to Station** ](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1882302/chapters/4082676)


	23. Walk To Station

Intern Kyle assures you that the station is not far away, and it is a nice day out, so you decide to follow his lead and walk to the station.

"At least we're not taking the subway," he chuckles. "I wouldn't make that mistake twice!"

He chats on the rest of the way, pointing out the various landmarks and telling you stories along the way. You are happy to let him. His voice is much different than the one on your iPod, but you still like it. You cut through Mission Grove Park, past a shabby shed leaning to one side, down a few streets. Finally you arrive at a small and surprisingly ordinary building topped with several large antennas.

You follow Kyle to the door, which is the only part of the building that strikes you as strange. The surface looks as if it is made of marble, swirling red and black patterns across its surface almost seem to move. Kyle removes the customary ceremonial dagger from the slot in the wall, runs the blade across his palm, and presses his bleeding hand to the stone. The door opens, and as he puts the dagger back, the intern notices your look of horror. He shrugs, knowing full well the sacrifices necessary for good security.

You are led down a series of hallways, many more than you thought would fit in the small building, past many more doors, each with a window looking into a recording studio. All the studios are empty. You hear sounds coming from a few of the rooms: a dripping faucet, a scream, the magnified sound of spiders running through mud, and you are confused but fascinated.

Finally, you see a studio that is not empty. A single man sits inside. He is not tall or short, thin or fat, but is still unmistakably different. As you lean in towards the window, you can see him better through the dim light. He leans towards an old-fashioned microphone, illuminated by a single dangling bulb. Watching closely, you realize that he is not sitting at his chair as much as hovering slightly above it. His eyes, all three of them, stare straight ahead, unblinking, glowing and trance-like, as he speaks.

You recognize that voice.

You watch him for a minute, and you almost cannot believe what you are seeing. The man's lips match the deep voice in your ear describing you watching him speak. Your mind is spinning, and you hear the voice on your iPod speaking your own thoughts back to you, that you might be frightened, that is, if you were not so fascinated.

Intern Kyle steps close to you and sighs. "He gets like this sometimes. That's how he got the job, they say. He can _see_ things." You can hear the admiration in his voice, and you both hear the voice echo your thoughts.

Kyle coughs. "But we're worried, he's been like this all day. He hasn't moved or eaten or, well... anything. All he does is talk. Talk about you. Carlos has been calling, and Management is getting… annoyed. " He shudders.

You look back into the window. There is a fly circling the coffee cup and untouched falafel on the desk. The man inside does not move to swat it away.

"I don't know what to do. This happens sometimes, but it's never lasted this long before. There must be something going on. I think he may be, well, stuck in your story somehow. You are important to Night Vale, you have to be. And your story needs an ending. Maybe then, he'll... he'll come back."

You protest. You can't be important; you are sure you don't know anything, but he insists. Your mind is overwhelmed, and your eyes are burning. You thought coming to Night Vale would be amazing, wonderful, but all you have done is trap a man you admire with your own existence, deprive a friendly intern of his mentor, and put a show you love in danger.

You start to cry.

He puts his hand on your shoulder. You look over at him. Your eyes meet. Suddenly you know the ending to the story. You both do.

He smiles at you, suddenly a little shy. "I, well… We do have an opening here for a receptionist..." You smile back and slowly take his hand in yours.

You do not see it, but in the studio, the man's eyes blink. He takes a deep breath, takes a sip of lukewarm coffee, looks out his window, and smiles wide.

"Stay tuned for the music of an unanticipated evening, followed by the blaring of an unwelcome dawn."

He leans in, close to the microphone.

"Good night, Night Vale."

"Good Night."

 

**END**


	24. Drive To Station

Intern Kyle assures you that the station is not a long walk away, but the desert sun is hot, your car does have air-conditioning, and you do not want to leave it behind. You offer him a ride, and he accepts. 

He sits beside you, giving you directions while he points out the various landmarks and tells you stories along the way. He strikes you as the chatty type, but you don't mind that at all. You remove your headphones, leaving the voice on your iPod behind to better focus on your new companion.

As you turn a corner to avoid several citizens being bound in lilliputian-sque fashion in the middle of first street, which Kyle assures you does not happen all that often, your stomach gives an audible rumble. Kyle smiles and points you towards the Arby's. You order fries and insist on paying for your passenger's milkshake, and as you exit the drive through, you look up. Your car slows down.

There they are. The lights above the Arby's.

"Cool, aren't they?" Kyle says, suddenly quiet. "Cecil says that he understands them, but he won't tell me what they mean."

"I'm sure you will figure it out," you tell him. He smiles. You smile back.

You look back at the lights. Something is different. Intern Kyle notices it, too. They are bigger now. You try to drive away, but you cannot. You realize then that they are not bigger; they are closer.

The Arby's sign passes by your window as you float higher, upwards towards the lights. The fries are forgotten, and you look towards Intern Kyle. He is shaking, eyes wide, whispering the words "not me, not yet".

You feel strangely calm. There is no way down, only up, and that is all there is. You take Kyle's hand. He removes his earpiece and tells you something.

You smile.

The car rises into the sky. A few days later, it will return, but will return empty. In a few months, it will be sold at the annual Secret Police Auction of Contraband and Seized Property. Maybe someday, you will return as well, but that is not as certain. So very little is certain in this world, after all.

Good Night, Night Vale. 

Good Night.

 

**END**


End file.
